Chapter Text
“Aiden, there’s a straggler,” he hears Ash call out.
Without missing a beat, he responds, “yeah, I can hear it running.”
Aiden flips the knife in his hand and as the phantom barges in, Aiden’s arm rises and with a powerful swing, stabs the phantom straight through the face. There’s a disturbingly satisfying crunch that comes with the action.
The phantom drops to the ground with a thud.
“Are there anymore?” Ashlyn asks, a confused expression on her face.
Aiden eyes Ashlyn for a moment. The look of confusion on her face intriguing him. He hums after a moment and leans out the doorway. He looks left then right and right again.
Aiden opens his mouth, about to speak but the sudden shaking of the ground throws him off balance. He let out an undignified yelp he refuses to admit to.
He could hear the others panicked “woah’s!” and gasps. Aiden gripped the wall and struggled to steady himself.
“Everyone get under something!” Aiden could hear the panic in Ashlyn’s voice. That alone had Aiden fighting the rumbling ground to get back inside.
As he pulls himself into the room again, a piece of the ceiling fell, blocking his path. He yelps and pulls backwards. He huffs an annoyed breath and tries again.
Before he can even think of getting under something, the sound of concrete mixed with the screams of what’s got to be a fatass phantom pierce Aiden’s ears.
He winces, about to make a snide remark about the sounds. His teeth grit together with effort.
A particularly loud crack pulls Aiden’s attention upwards. The adrenaline in his body soars and a vague, bittersweet smile crosses his lips.
‘This is such a shit way to die.’
Aiden gasped awake, hand clutching his chest. He choked and heaved and fought back gags. His left arm held most of his weight and he was doubled over. His knees ached at the hard surface beneath him.
His eyes were skewed shut and his heaving gasps didn’t stop. At some point he spit out the saliva that had pooled in his mouth.
Taking a shaky glance, he realized it was darkly colored. Blood? No, it was way too dark. It sure as hell looks like blood but it was…black.
Aiden leaned back onto his knees, staring down at the black blood(saliva?) on the ground.
‘Fucking hell,’ Aiden thought to himself.
Aiden blinked away his confusion. His body ached and his limbs felt like heavy jello. A headache ripped through him and forced a pained noise out of his throat.
Aiden hissed and shut his eyes. He leaned back onto his knees and tilted his head up to the sky. Opening his eyes, he stared at the grey sky.
Grey. That’s…not a red sky.
Aiden let out a shaky breath. He has no idea how long he had been lying there, choking on gags but it must’ve been well over a healthy amount of time.
It was safe to assume Aiden had seized up the same way Tyler had. That’s probably why he was seeing a grey sky instead of a red one. Or why he’s not seeing the ceiling of his house.
He’d been coughing and probably convulsing for quite a bit, yeah? Not like any amount of time spent convulsing on the floor was good but whatever.
Aiden leaned forward again, easing the uncomfortable pressure on his knees. Spots danced around his sight at the movement.
Achingly slow, Aiden pushed himself to the wall and used it to pull himself upwards. He whined at the amount of pain that spiked through him.
Now using the wall to hold himself up, Aiden was able to asses himself.
He still wore his Phantom Realm™️ attire which only aided his confusion. There were no physical wounds on him other than a few scratches he’s sure were from his seizure on the ground. His hair was messy and had dirt in it as well.
With his spare hand, he grazed his arm over his body. There were no physical wounds or pain that would obviously be caused by ceilings falling onto his face.
He checked his pockets next, finding a few bucks in there, his flashlight, and yes!! His dagger!
Aiden smiled when he grazed the familiar handle of his blade. Even if he was someplace unfamiliar, he at least had some sort of weapon to protect himself.
He looked around, eyes dancing around his surroundings. Even through his confusion and spotted vision, Aiden knew he wasn’t anywhere close to home.
There’s gunfire, yelling, and glass breaking nearby. There’s the smell of gunpowder, grime, and smoke all around him.
The sky is perpetually grey to a concerning amount. It almost looks black which is also really weird.
All in all, Aiden’s conclusion is pretty sound:
“This place sucks,” Aiden huffed out.
He shook his head, the action worsening his already shitty headache. His hand is shaking as he pushes his dirty hair back with a free hand.
The sound of boots thumping against the ground grab Aiden’s attention. He whips around towards the sound, staring into the dark depths of the alley he’d woke up in.
“Tell me about it, kid,” Aiden flinches, standing up straight and immediately regretting it. Pins and needles erupt up his spine that has him hunching forward to ease it.
He pulls out his knife, keeping it at his side. He’s still leaning against the wall but he tries to make it look as if he’s not injured.
He stares into the darkness of the alley, ready to attack. His eyes narrow and he watches a large figure walk out from the darkness.
Aiden’s eyes widen. This wasn’t a phantom—that much was obvious since the guy had spoken—and it wasn’t anyone Aiden knew.
“You—“ they begin, only to be cut off.
“Holy shit, you’re a fucking fridge,” Aiden blurts out, a delirious laugh escaping him.
“What?” The masked figure asks, confusion etched in his voice.
Aiden took stock of the other man, allowing the guys moment of confusion to move backwards, further away from them.
A red mask with two white eyes, a bulky figure(is this guy actually a fridge??), a leather jacket with black pants.
Actually, the guy is wearing mostly black if only for the pop of red and brown from the helmet and jacket.
With a worried acknowledgment, Aiden realizes that Fridge(his new nickname) has got guns on him too.
His pants have a belt which has gun holsters on them. There’s two visible guns there.
There’s also a suspiciously gun shaped bulk on the side of Fridge’s pants too. Aiden even notes a few blades he can spot.
Already on edge, the amount of weapons this guy holds put Aiden right into panic mode.
“Kid, what are you doing out here?” They ask, head cocking to the side.
“Drugs,” he bluntly responds. It was the first thought that came to mind.
He spun his knife in his hand, the action comforted Aiden. At least it also showed Fridge guy that Aiden was pretty damn good with his dagger too. Maybe he’ll back off.
Who is he kidding, Aiden’s luck is just that shitty. “Never bring a knife to a gun fight.” He hears that all the time yet here is!
Not to mention that his response seemed to agitate Fridge rather than confuse him like Aiden was intending to do.
In fact, Fridge scowled(even if Aiden couldn’t see it, he sure could feel it) and stepped closer to him.
Aiden felt the familiar thrum of adrenaline begin coursing through him with each step closer the man took.
He took a staggered step backwards, eyes flitting from Fridge to the alleyway exit.
“I’m kidding, Fridge,” he stated, voice betraying him and waving. He stepping back again when Fridge stepped forward, “it was actually that guy who was doing drugs.”
Aiden hastily pointed behind the guy. An easy going smirk crossed his face and he tilted his head to the side.
“Who—“
To Aiden’s surprise, Fridge took the bait. Aiden didn’t wait, he sprinted out of the alleyway.
Aiden felt a cackle bubble out of him and turned his head back to see Fridge staring at him and not giving chase. Thank god! Aiden needs to regroup with the others and figure this shit out.
He knew he was a lot slower; waking up after dying isn’t really the type of rest or sleep someone would want. Not to mention the fatigue that makes his limbs extra hard to move.
He spared one last glance at Fridge. And that, was when the feeling of victory washed away from him. It was replaced with growing horror.
He watched the man reach up to his helmet presumably clicking something. Then, the hulking man of a fridge starts fucking chasing him and oh my god he’s fucking catching up—
Aiden quickly sheathed his knife and turned around. With his eyes ahead, Aiden moved faster. He raced onto the sidewalk and took a sharp right towards people.
With growing dread, he realized that he would need to run a lot fucking faster than he already was. He can hear the thump of boots chasing after him.
With new found determination, Aiden pushed his already sore legs to move faster. People parted for him like a wave and Aiden could see the looks of pity he received. Pity? Jesus Christ, was this fridge guy going to shoot him down or something?
The people knew something Aiden didn’t and that fucking petrified him.
His eyes snapped and he watched a car whisk past him going well over the speed limit. An idea sparked inside his mind. A last attempt to outrun Fridge.
Aiden definitely can’t outrun this guy(that alone is such a concerning thought). He definitely can’t when he’s in such a weakened state. Confusion and fatigue and spotty vision was such a terrible combination for running away.
But , cars don’t get confused or fatigued or get spotty vision. They certainly don’t get seizures after dying either.
Aiden took a sudden turn, straight into the road and sprinted across. He narrowly avoided a speeding car.
He turned his head back for a moment to see the masked guy nearly get ran over too.
Aiden would feel bad about it but the weirdo had been chasing him. Not to mention that he’s pretty sure Fridge wants Aiden dead.
He turned back around and heaved for air as he kept running, running, running. The amount of people outside was thin and small but it was enough for Fridge to struggle to get through them.
Aiden purposely weaved through the small crowd(even if they tried to make way for him to just run straight through). The people he accidentally shoved let out grunts and cursed at Aiden yet he couldn’t find himself to really give a fuck.
Fridge was still hot on his trail even if the guy had been slowed down.
Aiden takes another sharp turn and almost gasps with relief as he comes upon a building that is most definitely abandoned.
He rounds the building through the back and quickly jumps through an already broken window. He lands sharply on glass and it crunches beneath his feet.
His ankle protests and shouts in pain but Aiden pushes on. He slowed his sprint to a run, confident that he can give himself a moment of rest.
Aiden makes his way towards the darkest corner in the building and smirks.
There’s an array of boxes that stand tall enough to hide a kid his size behind them. Convenient enough to make Aiden feel like this isn’t the first time someone has been chased into this building.
Without anymore thoughts about it, he dives behind those boxes and tries to steady his breaths and racing heart.
There’s a smirk etched onto his lips at the gratifying feeling of adrenaline and the thrum under his skin.
Maybe he shouldn’t be so thrilled at the situation. He could be shot down or kidnapped or even killed but Aiden is nothing if not a psychotic adrenaline junkie.
He lets out a shaky chuckle. He pulls his knees tight to his chest and leans his head back against the wall.
There’s a moment where Aiden sits in the silence, the sound of his breaths coming in quick and his ears straining to hear for anyone.
It’s about two minutes after the chase that Aiden does hear something. There’s a voic—Fridge, Aiden realizes—as he climbs in through the same window Aiden had.
The sound of glass crunching beneath his boots makes Aiden perk up even more. Had he seen Aiden run in here?
“Don’t make fun of me, I’m not a damn fridge,” he huffs.
Aidens breathing is shallow and his heart is beginning to pound again. Aiden remains frozen, listening.
“No, there were no sign of drugs, O. I checked. Thoroughly,” the guy sounds exasperated, “not to mention I came in through the back of the alley, not through the entrance. If someone was doing drugs I would’ve known. That kid was lying.”
In the silence of the building, Aiden is able to hear crackling from what he assumes is some sort of communication device.
He notes ‘O’ as someone Fridge knows and saves that information for later.
“He’s fast, even when injured, I’ll give ‘em that. I would’ve caught him if not for that damned car,” Aiden momentarily holds his breath when he hears Fridge walk right past him.
“Do you have a name?” Aiden perks up at the new voice. That’s gotta be this ‘O’ person.
“No, he ran before I could even ask him anything. I was hoping you’d be able to find him,” There’s a stretch of silence and then static again. Aiden’s eyes widen. Find him?
Shit, Fridge has people working with him. How the hell is he supposed to find his friends if he’s being hunted by some helmet wearing dude??
Aiden fights to keep his breath steady as his mind is racing with possibilities. He has to avoid populated areas. Actually, he should avoid people in general if he’s being searched for.
He still has no idea where he is and the people don’t feel friendly. Those pitying, knowing looks had a hard glare behind them.
He didn’t see them before while he was sprinting but now that he’s looking back, those people were looking at him as if he actually had been doing drugs.
Not like they’d know it obviously but still. It’s like they knew. Does Fridge go after druggies? Is the guy some sort of fucking vigilante?
“I’m looking at the security footage and I see who you’re talking about. Blonde hair, brown eyes, white skin,” Aiden’s brows furrow. Brown eyes? He’ll have to find a mirror. “He’s wearing all black but he’s got what looks like a grey strap across his shirt.”
“It’s a flashlight, I got close enough to see it,” Fridge responds immediately, “and his eyes are red. He’s probably wearing contacts.”
Guess he won’t need a mirror. It must be the camera quality or the darkness that made it look like he’s got brown eyes.
There’s a hum that sounds more like static than human. He hears Fridge mutter something about ‘shit camera quality.’
“He rounded this building but I don’t have sight of him leaving the buildings premise. He’s most likely still nearby,” Fridge lets out a grunt and the man starts to walk off again.
Aiden can’t hear the twos conversation anymore but what he’s heard is enough.
“There’s something about that kid, O,” he hears Fridge say, “I saw the kid seizing and then he got up. Yeah, just like that.”
There was a pause. He heard static but no coherent words from O.
“I’m going back to the alleyway. I saw the kid spit up what looked to be blood. I was able to get a short look at it before he sprinted off,” Fridge paused, boots scuffling as he looked around the darkness no doubt searching for Aiden, “His blood was black. No, it’s not the dark that made it look like that and I don’t have shades over my visor.”
Fridge’s conversation ended shortly after that. He heard the crunch of glass as Fridge carefully heaved his legs through the window.
“Don’t tell the bats shit,” was the last thing he heard him growl.
Aiden let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The exhale rattled his bones and he slumped his head onto his knees. He shakily inhaled.
He’s all alone in the dark and without his friends. All alone in a strange place where the sky was nearly black.
That startled a thought into Aiden’s mind:
‘It’s night time,’ the thought horrified him.
The phantom realm. Fuck, what time is it? Aiden is sure that there was less than an hour left in the realm when he died. He’s sure of it, so, is it 7 AM?
How dark does it get at 10 PM? What’s the phantom realm like here? Is he even going to be in the phantom realm? Where even is he?
Aiden’s chest tightened and his careful breathing was becoming erratic. He straightened his legs out as much as he could in the tight space to try and alleviate the tension.
Aiden sat there behind those boxes for another ten minutes just breathing. He refused to allow anymore thoughts to plague his mind.
Without the company of people, Aiden allowed himself to let out a scared noise. It sounded painfully close to a whine.
The burning behind his eyes didn’t help. He tilted his head back again to keep the tears from falling.
At some point, Aiden pushed his wallows away. He can’t breakdown in some random dingy building because his friends aren’t by him.
Aiden purposefully decided to avoid mentioning how he was pretty sure he should be in the phantom realm but isn’t.
He stood up, hand on the wall to help stabilize him. Sprinting through the streets is never easy. Especially after dying. Which is an experience Aiden probably shouldn’t have but hey, it builds character!
He peaked out from the boxes then stepped out from behind them. He stood near the boxes ready to hide again.
Once he was sure Fridge and or this O person wasn’t going to randomly pop up out of nowhere, he moved forward.
He looked around every few steps, determined to not be found. He made his way back to the window and climbed out.
Aiden looked around, searching the shadows more closely and looking for cameras.
He noted the lack of surveillance in this area. There was one that pointed in his direction but he was pretty sure he was out of sight.
Aiden moved towards the streets again. He looked down at his clothing and sighed. Dirt was caked on his pants and there were black stains(whether from Aiden’s weirdly colored blood or the phantoms is unknown right now) on him.
Aidens post seizure symptoms seemed to have faded away by now. Only a headache and body aches remained which Aiden was eternally grateful for.
He’s gonna have to find another place to hunker down in. Someplace not close to where he saw Fridge that’s for sure.
If Aiden’s friends aren’t here, he certainly can’t search for them or call them if he’s being hunted. He’s already on some drug-killers radar and he really doesn’t want to die.
He looked around, eyes flicking to various buildings. He was starting to get into a nicer part of town. The buildings were so run down and the people here just ignored Aiden rather than glared.
Aiden wasn’t unfamiliar with searching for places to hide in. His middle school years had been filled with sneaking out of the house and exploring the streets in the dark.
In fact, there was a point in time where Aiden had run away for a month. He had resources considering the hearty amount of cash he had taken with him but even so, not a single call from his parents.
Not even a call to school.
That must’ve been the lowest point in Aiden’s life. He won’t ever admit that. Not with the guilt that sits in the way and the subtle anger that stirs whenever his parents laugh.
Now though, he had found places to hide from phantoms. He found places where phantoms couldn’t reach him nor his friends and he trained to fight.
But now, Aiden was alone. This too, is a familiar feeling but he’s already gotten used to being with the others.
He missed Ben’s stern presence, Ashlyn’s bluntness, Logan’s smarts, Tyler’s stupid ass, and Taylor’s kindness.
Aiden sighed and scrubbed at his aching eyes and swallowed against the lump in his throat. He hates how his guard has lowered so much around his friends.
He truly hates it.
Aiden shakes himself out of his stupor. He can’t bother himself with these thoughts. No, not when he has more important things to worry about.
Something tells Aiden that he’s going to be stuck here longer than he wants.
With a sigh, Aiden looks up. There cameras here too. Three on the door of a store(it’s a little excessive honestly), one on the corner of a street, three staring at him, and some more.
Wait.
Aiden’s eyes snap to the three cameras that stare straight into his soul. The slow, red blinks from the cameras are going to haunt his dreams.
Aiden tensed up and sped up. He kept his eyes peeled for Fridge guy and sounds of static.
He scanned for some place to hunker down in frantically. Finally, his eyes landed on it:
A building so run down Aiden doesn’t think anyone would dare tread inside for fear of it collapsing.
How ironic. Aiden was just crushed by a ceiling and here he is, treading inside a building that looks eerily similar to the one he was crushed in.
Albeit it’s much smaller, dirtier, and definitely standing on its last peg.
To Aiden, this is perfect. There’s no cameras inside. Aiden would know, he took the time to check once he entered the building.
He hummed in thought as he spun in a slow circle. He spotted a few scarps of fabric and immediately grabbed it. While it’s not particularly cold right now, the adrenaline fueled energy Aiden felt was sure to fade soon.
He looked around and once he spotted stairs he began to climb. The building, while not big, looked as if it had been an apartment building long ago. Most of it has crumbled away and Aiden is throughly surprised that the building is even standing.
He yelped as his leg slipped through a hole in the stairs. He pushed himself back up and grumbled. Rude.
He managed to climb up two floors before the stairs got too destroyed to climb. He turns and looks around the hall. It’s short. Very short. And there’s only four doors here.
One door was locked and jammed shut, another was absolutely destroyed and reeked of what Aiden could only describe as death, and another room was trashed beyond recognition.
The very last door wasn’t broken but had various stains on it. They looked a lot like blood splatters but Aiden chose to ignore that.
Treading into the room, Aiden expected the worst. He was quite surprised to find a somewhat live-able space.
The couch was destroyed and smelt terribly. It also had stains that Aiden wouldn’t dare touch. The floor was dusty and dirty and trash littered the floor.
Walking further in, he noted the kitchen was covered with thick dust and had nothing in it. There was no electricity so Aiden was stuck with the darkness.
Aiden dropped the scraps of fabric he had acquired and walked towards a closed door he assumed was the bedroom. Pulling it open, Aiden’s eyes widened.
The room…was missing. No, it literally was missing. The door opened to a three story drop. Which if Aiden remembered correctly was about twenty, twenty-five feet-ish.
Aiden promptly shut the door, turned around, and walked away. He should be grateful he even found a usable apartment space.
He grabbed the scraps of fabric and laid it over the stained couch. If there’s no bed, Aiden will just have to suffer through sleeping on a destroyed couch.
He sat down onto the couch and slumped back against it. Everything that has happened in the past, what? Two hours? Three? Crashed into Aiden.
The adrenaline rush had long since faded, his headache had worsened, and the fatigue that laced his body grew.
Aiden groaned and rubbed his eyes. How does the craziest shit always happen to them? No, not them. Him. He’s alone here. As of now.
And that was a can of worms Aiden’s gotta open isn’t it?
His friends aren’t here. They saw him die and they weren’t there when Aiden woke up seizing and convulsing. They would have never left him that. Right?
“Of course they wouldn’t,” he says out loud. He shoves those doubts deep inside his mind.
He decided to distract himself with reviewing what he knows.
He’s being hunted. By who? That fridge guy who Aiden thinks has some sort of vendetta against drug addicts or something.
Fridge is also working with another person named O. That means there could be more people who may be hunting him.
Those ‘bats’ for one. But then again, it sounds like Fridge guy doesn’t like them.
Aiden sighs, annoyance laced in the sound. How fucking annoying.
Not to mention O has got eyes on every camera system. They’ve gotta be some sort of spy or something. That or they have connections to the police.
How nice!! Now he can’t even trust officers!
So what? Aiden is alone, hurt, dead(??), being actively hunted, and stressed.
God, he is so stressed right now.
His clothes are beginning to itch and he can feel the grime in his hair. He needs to at least change. He might kill himself or somebody else if he doesn’t at least do that.
With a newfound goal, Aiden stands up and begins to search for clothes. He wanders the house opening closets and pantries but he doesn’t find any luck until he ventures into the other rooms.
He covers his nose for the most part as the scent in these apartments is vile. Opening one of the closets, Aiden beams.
There’s a few shirts and hoodies and a pair of pants that are too big for him. They’ll work fine for Aiden. He’ll figure it out.
Getting back to his hideout, he immediately went to work and changed. He noted a few bruises and scraps that had been hidden by his clothes.
Once he was done, he made his way into the bathroom where there thankfully was a hairbrush(although it was ripped up and looked chewed up) and running water. It was freezing to the touch but it was clean and god damn it Aiden needed washed hair.
As the water ran, he sneezed, an odd smell coming from the water. It wasn’t a sewage smell but it vaguely smelt of chemicals. He decided to hurry up and once his hair was relatively clean, turned the water off.
Most of the dirt and grime had been removed and his tangled hair had been brushed and tamed. He shook his head expelling water practically everywhere and sighed with relief.
Aiden returned back to the couch and flopped down onto it. He bounced a few times and deflated.
The silence of Aiden’s hideout was deafening. The wind blew and shook the bedroom door, the floor boards creaked with each move Aiden made and the place in general was miserable.
Aiden was getting fed up with being inside. Despite his tired body and screaming bones, he sat up.
Aiden was never someone who was able to sit still for long.
Maybe there’s a roof door? He could chill on the roof of the building for a bit for fresh air. Then he could come back down and sleep. Yeah, that sounds like an okay plan.
He exited the building and eyed the destroyed stairs that led up. He hummed with thought and like the idiot he was, took a leap of faith and jumped up.
His hands clasped onto the stairs and he heaved himself upwards. His leg came up to grasp the edge of the railings and he rolled-pushed himself onto the stairs. Now standing on the creaky stairs, he began to walk up.
Thankfully, he hadn’t met anymore destroyed stairs and was able to shove the roof door open.
He honestly didn’t really need to. At some point, the stairs just lead to a hole in the roof. The door somehow was still standing but was useless when the area around it collapsed already.
Aiden’s surprised once again at this buildings determination to stand.
He inhales deeply once the wind rushes against him. The air still smells terribly and the sky is shrouded with clouds but Aiden still found it refreshing.
He made his way to the ledge and sat down. He could see the lamp posts that shone from here and he could still hear the buzz of people on the streets.
The hoodie he wore and the baggy pants shielded him from the wind but his wet hair kept him cold. After a few particularly cruel gusts of wind, Aiden pulled his hood up.
Aiden doesn’t know how long he sat there with his legs dangling over the edge. He was half heartedly searching for any areas that could be useful to him.
Aiden was able to spot a few stores and some more crumbling buildings.
His eyes caught on a group of kids all of sudden. A group of five that looked eerily similar to his friends.
Hope ignited in him and he immediately shifted his position. He scooted further to the edge, almost hanging off and his eyes were wide staring at the group.
His hope was immediately crushed once he spotted the differences. The group of five had two red heads and three brown haired kids. Not to mention they were all too tall or too short.
Aiden felt his heart crumble. His mind went blank, hands trembling. He misses his friends. Something in him tells Aiden he really, truly is alone here in this strange place.
He looks down at the high drop. Tears finally slipping down his face.
“Hey!”
Aiden startles, pushing back onto the roof and reaching to grab his dagger in his pocket.
‘Shit, its not here,’ he bitterly thinks as he turns to the figure.
Aiden looked up to the figure. A tall male wearing an all black suit with a blue symbol across his chest. He wore a mask over his face that didn’t cover anything but his eyes.
‘A domino mask,’ Aiden’s mind helpfully supplied.
“Hey kid, names Nightwing.”